Tuesday, June 27, 2006

What's in a Name?

Dennis (in a recent comment on this blog) said...
"I'm not sure that there is an answer out there that we may now name God..."

Like many profound thoughts, it often takes a little bit of reflection to see just how profound they are, and I thank Dennis for his contribution. In debate or discussion or any form of communication, there is only meaningful exchange if we agree on the meaning of the words/terms that we use. At the outset, we must first "define our terms" so to speak, before we can talk about something. To give a somewhat frivolous example, say we want to have a discussion about "cheesecakes." Discussant A understands cheescakes to be a confection that is rather "pie-like" usually created using a form of soft white cheese with other ingredients and baked in an oven. Discussant B, however, understands a cheesecake to be piece or "brick" of a cheddar-like dairy product - a "cake" of "cheese." Clearly, if A and B start to discuss "cheesecake" without first agreeing to a mutual definition, they are going to run into a great deal of trouble. They will be talking about two entirely different things, and ultimately, unless they realize the error they have made to define terms, they are going to wind up in a state of either puzzled confusion or massive disagreement.

The problem, perhaps, with even using the word "God" is that, for English-speaking Western Christians, "God" is not just a religious "term", but has come to be used as a name.This is particularly present in the phenomenon of vocal prayer where, although we may preface God with an honorific "O," we use it as a term of address. "O God, we call to you today...." is rather like "Dear Steven, I am writing to you today...." "God" is, therefore, rather the name that we give to the nameless God. We do not phrase the invocation as "In the Father, Son and Holy Spirit" but as "In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit." In spite of inheriting the story of the God whose "name" was unpronounceable, we could not live without a name.

We are, of course, all about giving names to things and particularly to persons. To not refer to or relate to a person by her/his name is tantamount to an insult in our culture. Witness the response that you get to "Hey, you!" Or how you can color a discussion about someone by referring to him or her as "that man" or "that woman." Our desire to "name" the numinous as "God" probably derives at least in part from our natural tendency to describe reality in terms of our human selves. We are self-conscious individuals with names---would it not be natural to conceive of the numinous in similar terms? We really should turn the first Genesis creation language on its head (pardon the gender-laden language, it's in the original):

In the beginning, man created God. In the image of man (woman), he created him (her). Male and female (at least before the feminine divinity was "deleted") they created God.

This is, of course, the essence of theism. It is so essential that even "theism" is probably a bad word for it. Although the term is already taken, "humanism" might have been a better one. It is a belief that so many people find indispensible that it passes hardly without notice. There are plenty of people who state as a prime principle of their faith that they believe in a personal God. In another context for the "born again" crowd, "I accept Jesus as my personal savior." In the deep human longings for something "other" than the surrounding reality of day-to-day life, there is, perhaps, a longing for a relationship. For humans, relationships are primarily those with "people." Even our relationships with non-human animals are conducted in similar terms where we relate to them as "people" (primarily as children for companion animals). It is natural, therefore, that we should think of "God" as a "person." It is a concept born of emotion, of longing, of loneliness, of a desire to love and be loved, to care for and be taken care of.

For this reason, discussions about "God" in impersonal, abstract, non-concrete terms often are perceived as "cold" "rationalistic" and, yes, "impersonal." These abstractions do not often speak strongly to a needy emotional self. They are, therefore, unappealing for most and do not inspire passionate response.

We must admit, however, that emotions, although they can lead persons to do extraordinarily good things, can also lead to extraordinarily terrible consequences as well. When emotions guide our actions, they can lead to ends that are incredibly constructive or incredibly destructive. For the neurologist, emotions are conceived of as coming from the most primitive parts of our brain in an evolutionary sense. They come from the "reptile" brain, we say. Indeed, there is a certain mystery to the origins of our emotions. They do not often come as a part of logical thought, but they arise unbidden from the depths often without clear reason. Witness the phenomenon of romantic "falling in love" that some have experienced as "love at first sight." It cannot come from any logical or considered conclusion about compatibility, but comes unbidden and unasked for. In a religious context, it is, probably, an error to let emotions rule the discussion, because ultimately, emotions can only be experienced, not discussed or argued in or out of existence. We need to both acknowledge our emotional selves and the value of emotion as well as to avoid letting emotion alone control us.

So what do we do with the word/name "God" then? Honestly, I am not sure. We could, I suppose, create an entirely new word with no pre-existent antecedents, "marneld" or "xtrilin" or some other "alien" sounding word. It is, however, a linguistic rarity for an entirely new word to be consciously invented and to gain general acceptance. Perhaps we need to use other "non-personal" terms that have been at the periphery of religious life such as "the numinous" or "enlightenment" or "buddha nature" or "the ground of being" or whatever. Whether one of these "alternate" terms comes to be central in non-theistic Christianity remains to be seen, but it helps, I think, to pepper them through consideration and discussion just the same. Perhaps we should use "God" only when talking in negatives (the so-called "Via Negativa") as in "God does not exist." or "God is not." Inasmuch as a "new" religious synthesis is going to have to come to terms with other faith/cultural traditions in a global world, perhaps we should simply use as many terms as possible and insist that our discussions always "begin" with an exploration of our words, their origins and their meanings. For those who have come to distrust language at all in a religious context, perhaps we should just not say anything at all....

At least for now, being out of time, I'll end with a bit of that reflective silence.

Jeffrey Shy
(Yep, that's my name, don't wear it out.)
Mesa, Arizona

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Interesting thoughts. This isn't a problem that Indians (as in the subcontinent) face. No one would ever say, "Well, I believe in Vishu, but Brahma and Shiva are imaginary." Most of the gods have very personal names. We, good Anglo-Saxon types that we are, call "God" by his title or position. It is much like calling "Waiter" in a restaurant. We get all of the problems of a personal god but none (or few) of the mythic (as mythos) benefits.

I think that there might be an advantage, too, though. It allows us to have a natural tendency towards some sort of agnosticism. Is there a waiter in this restaurant? He hasn't come by our table. Is there a god in this universe? Well, whoever or whatever he/she/it is, we haven't seen him/her/it around here. We are all waiting for the un-named God to appear.

I've spent enough time in Unitarian services (in one of my many "I'm leaving the Episcopal Church" rants) to know that worshiping "the numinous" is rather empty. Perhaps that is why I so often oscillate between sneering atheism, buddhist books and etc, and sitting on the back porch reading morning prayer out of the BCP on Sunday mornings. Walking away seems to be leaving behind something important, religion lite seems rather empty, and the old faith-once-delivered-to-the-saints seems just plain wrong. What to do, what to do.

Jeffrey Shy said...

Dennis,

Thanks again for your comments. It is a bit spooky that our thoughts and experiences are so much in line.

While I did not make it to the Unitarian church, I got pretty close and did not start going only mostly because of logistics. It was not many months ago that I also purchased yet another "Buddhism book" on the writings attributed to Bodhidharma (you probably recall - the Buddhist sage who meditated on the empty wall until his arms and legs fell off thereby earning him a perpetual place in folk religion as a sort of ascetic cupie doll).

As I have been considering my next posting, I have been thinking about the "emotive" side of "religious experience." I note that, in some of the phrases you use "worshiping the numinous seems rather empty," "walking away seems to be leaving behind something important" where there is a "something" that is missing in our experience perhaps of these non-theistic practices. It is not clear to me that this is an intellectual/logical "something," however.

In honesty, I am not sure what this "something" is. At my most cynical, I wonder if it is not just that I "miss" my old thestic God and my feelings are rather a reminiscence about the "good old days." Alternatively, I have to speculate that there was something "experiential" about religious practice that I knew before I abandoned theism. Was it just some chemical reaction in my brain, as I speculated a few posts back? Does that make me rather like the sober alcoholic or drug user who has a craving to use again? Or is there a "something" in religious experience that is (here I'm teetering on the precipice of falling down the theistic pit) an "other" or a "more" than my single self-conscious entity can account for?

As I have been thinking just what I want to say about the "emotive" side of things, I must admit that I am having a hard time finding the words to express it. Perhaps this is because emotive experiences are so hard to quantify/objectify. Is there a place in a non-theistic Christianity for some sort of religious "experience." If it is not the experience of an "objective" "divine" reality, then what is it?

It is, precisely the "what to do" that is so difficult here. How do we do a post-theistic Christianity?

Jeffrey Shy
Mesa, Arizona